Page 6 of Reset

“Sarah. My name is Sarah Davidson, as you well know, Ryan McKay.”

“McKay?” That shocked him. “My name isn’t McKay, it’s Granger. McKay is my boss Callum’s name.”

Why was she even surprised?

“Of course it is. Was anything about you real? I thought I was getting to know this nice, safe, stable guy who installed alarms for a living. Instead, he ghosted me, only to turn up a year later and kidnap me for his freaky dungeon.”

Ryan stalked over to her and pushed his unruly, overgrown hair up on the right side of his head. A long, white scar appeared, running about an inch above his temple. “A bullet skimmed my head. The impact turned my skull into a pinball machine, my brain being the ball. Trust me, if your brain smashes against bone enough, you lose some normal physical function and you can kiss goodbye to a whole bunch of memories.”

Anger rushed out of Sarah in a long, silent whoosh. That definitely hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. Stomach clenching, she hesitantly reached for the scar.

A strong hand wrapped around her wrist. “No hitting.”

“I told you. I don’t usually hit.”

He stared at her, waiting while he held her in place.

“I’ll be gentle,” she promised.

As soon as he let her go, she traced the scar with trembling fingertips. An inch lower and it would have shattered his temple. An inch to the right and he would have died. Her throat tightened as she frantically blinked back tears.

“How?” she whispered; her voice rough.

He let his hair drop to cover the scar. “I don’t remember, although I’ve been told I was protecting a friend in a bad situation when I was shot. Took a couple to the chest too, but the head injury was the worst.”

A memory from the weeks following their first—and last—in-person date smacked her in the face. “Did it happen in London?”

When he nodded, she felt bile rise in her throat and forced herself to swallow it down.

“There were news stories.” Her hand fluttered anxiously to her throat. “A security company had been attacked and blown up. Then there was a shootout in the center of London involving organized crime and a team of bodyguards. A crime lord’s daughter was kidnapped. People died and a bodyguard was critically injured…”

No.

It couldn’t be…

“That was me,” he said, making her feel light-headed. “I spent seven months in a coma, and the past six months trying to build up muscle mass and regain some of the dexterity I lost while I was out of it. I’m almost back to where I was before I was shot, but the neurologist says I’ll stumble over holes in my memory for years to come.” He shuffled awkwardly. “I guess you fell through a hole.”

This was a nightmare.

All those times she’d cursed him for being a creep and he’d been lying in a coma.

He could have died…

“I watched the news and didn’t know it was about you,” she whispered, horrified she hadn’t made the connection. “You told me you fitted alarm systems.”

“I do that too.”

“As well as bodyguard work?” Like he’d been doing when he was shot.

“And hostage retrieval, company espionage, covert operations—whatever is needed. At least I did before the injury. Until I’m cleared for weapons handling, driving, and physical activities, I can’t work with my team. But I’m slowly sitting the tests I need to retake. I should have been sitting my firearms proficiency today.”

“And you really had nothing to with this?” She indicated the cavern.

“No. I really didn’t,” he said firmly.

There was silence for a moment as Ryan’s revelations sank in. Her heart literally ached for him and everything he’d gone through. And it ached for what they could have been if he hadn’t been shot. Mostly, she ached because she wished she’d been there beside him, helping him heal.

“If I’d known, I would have been there for you when you were injured.”